


King of Anything

by Chlobliviate



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fremione - Freeform, Like he's a complete asshole, OOC Ron, PTSD, Ron Bashing, Ron Weasley Bashing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-13
Updated: 2017-04-07
Packaged: 2018-09-23 20:58:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9676655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chlobliviate/pseuds/Chlobliviate
Summary: Hermione deals with a break up by throwing herself into her friends' lives, before realising she has feelings for one of them.Written around the song 'King of Anything' by Sara Bareilles.You can now find me on tumblr as chlobliviate :)





	1. Stare Me Down Across The Table

**Author's Note:**

> _Keep drinking coffee, stare me down across the table_  
>  While I look outside  
> So many things I'd say if only I were able  
> But I just keep quiet and count the cars that pass by
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> (I own nothing recognisable, all credit to JK Rowling and Sara Bareilles and none to my brain which is supposed to be focused on dissertation writing)

“I don’t know why you’re being like this, I _swear_ I told you weeks ago.” Ron grumbled. “It’s only one weekend. I don’t see what the big deal is.”

Hermione hummed in response and took another sip of earl grey. Ron sighed loudly before pouring himself another cup of coffee from the cafetière and adding a splash of milk. 

“It’s one weekend away with the team, we’re just going to go to some muggle clubs and not have to worry about us not winning the league. Which we _can’t_ do after last week anyway.” He spat the last words, 

Hermione had not been to any of his quidditch matches in over a month, when pressed on the subject, she’d said “I don't insist on you coming to the ministry everyday, Ronald.” And that was supposedly, that.

“You trust me, don’t you?” Ron narrowed his eyes at her, Hermione was clearly not listening to a word he was saying, eyes focused on a road outside their flat on the side that didn't face into Diagon Alley. “Hermione?”

She hummed again, she wasn’t up for an argument today, the last few weeks had been riddled with them. If they weren’t at each others throats about the state of the flat, they weren’t talking because Ron had put his foot in his mouth again. Hermione's only solace through the past few weeks had been meeting up with Harry and Ginny the previous weekend. She knew that Ron’s team were due to play Ginny's in two weeks and had begrudgingly agreed to go.

She didn’t mean to be dismissive of Ron’s passion and career, but it simply didn’t interest her. Seven years of watching the game under duress at school hadn’t made a blind bit of difference, she simply wasn’t someone who enjoyed watching sport, whether her boyfriend was playing or not.

She finished her tea and set the mug back on the table, eyes never leaving the road. It was a coping technique she'd picked up after the war, _grounding_. She’d count the number of red cars, or the dimples in a piece of kitchen roll or the familiar cracks in her bedroom ceiling. It helped cement her in the moment and had prevented numerous panic attacks. Ron had been worried about her at first but when her anxiety became so bad that it prevented her completing simple tasks, he'd grown gradually resentful. It had been a while since she'd had one and she wasn't about to let this trigger one.

“Are we going to have a conversation about this?” 

“Is there any point? You’re going away for the weekend, that’s the bottom line whether or not you told me, which you _didn’t_. There's no point having a conversation or an argument about it.” Ron frowned at her, “We have a calendar that we put stuff like this on, you know that! That’s how I know you _didn't_ tell me.” 

The enchanted calendar had been a bone of contention of them multiple times, while Hermione revelled in the sense of order and reassurance that it provided her, much like the Weasleys’ clock, the ever impulsive Ron saw it as a unnecessary protocol.

Hermione’s eyes never left the droves of rush hour traffic. “I’m sick of arguing with you, Ron. Maybe a weekend apart isn't a bad idea.” She rose from the table and picked up her bag from the table by the door. Ron’s mouth was opening and losing like a goldfish’s and his ears were several shades darker. “Will you be here when I get back from work?”

Ron shook his head, “We’re leaving at four.”

“Have a good weekend, I’ll see you when you get back.” Hermione left the flat, the door slamming behind her in a final act of defiance.

When she returned just after six, other than their cups in the sink, there was no sign of Ron, he hadn’t left her a note. She sighed as she put the kettle on, pulling out the box of gorgeous loose leaf Lady Grey tea that Mrs Weasley had bought her last Christmas. As she prepared her tea, letting it steep, she pulled her hair down from the top of her head, letting the curls fall down her back. Growing her hair longer had tamed it somewhat with regards to its bushiness, but managing it was still a nightmare. 

She shed her work clothes, pulling on an oversized dark red jumper and her comfy pyjama bottoms. She made it back to the kitchen just as her tea was drinking temperature. Balancing the cup, a book and a bar of Honeydukes’ finest milk chocolate she walked slowly into the living room, setting everything down on the low coffee table and flicking on the muggle television that Ron had been so adamant that they didn’t need. She channel surfed for a minute or two before sliding in the VHS copy of Titanic that she’d bought almost a year ago and had only watched four times.

She picked up her tea from the table but before she could take a sip, there was a knock at the door. Maybe Ron had realised he’d been an arse. She paused the film and padded over to the front door quickly. She opened the door to find a distressed Weasley, just not the one she was expecting.

“Fred?” Hermione already knew it was him and not George, “Are you alright?”

“Oh, hi Hermione. Ron about?” Fred seemed agitated.

“He’s gone away with the team for the weekend, sorry. Would you like to come in?” She opened the door wider, inviting him in.

“I don't want to impose, I could just do with drowning my sorrows and thought Ron might-”

“What sorrows?” Fred looked uncomfortable, rubbing the back his neck. “Come on, come in. Is it a firewhiskey drowning or a wine drowning or an ice-cream drowning?”

Fred followed her into the flat, closing the door behind him, and double-checking that it was locked. It may have been almost two years since the war, but old habits die hard.

“Alicia and I broke up.” He managed as they entered the kitchen. “I don’t want to ruin your night though.” He’d noticed the film set up in the living room on his way through.

“You’re welcome to join me. We can drink wine, eat chocolate and watch a cinematic masterpiece?” Hermione knew that Ron would be taking Fred down to the pub, but that wasn’t her style. 

“That actually sounds good.” Fred seemed confused at this revelation. “You’re sure you don’t mind.”

“Of course not! Red, white or rosé?” Hermione was pulling glasses out of the cupboard.

“Red, please.”

“So what happened with you and Alicia?”


	2. I Never Asked

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _You've got opinions, man  
>  We're all entitled to 'em, but I never asked_

“She met someone else,” He started, his forehead creased. “We decided to have a week or two where we just took a break from seeing each other to see if we missed each other and to see… I don't even know. We met up this afternoon and instead of considering our relationship, it became pretty clear that she’d just been looking for someone new.”

“Fred, that’s awful. I’m so sorry.” Hermione crossed the room and pulled Fred into a hug. He eventually reciprocated, his arms pressing Hermione even closer to him. She could feel his body shaking. “You can cry, you know?” He rested his chin on the top of her head.

“I know, part of me’s worried that if I start I won’t be able-” He stopped and took a deep breath, “I won’t be able to stop.” He felt her nod against his chest, before pulling away. She picked up his glass of wine off the kitchen counter and handed it to him. 

“Drink this, you’ll feel better.” She smiled sadly at him. “Do you know who the other guy is?”

“Roger bloody Davies. Bill was right about him.” Fred swirled the wine around in his glass before taking a sip. “Such a smarmy git. He knew that Alicia and I were together and didn’t mind stepping on any toes. I just hope I see him in The Leaky Cauldron soon.”

“You’re all the same, honestly.” It had come out before Hermione had even thought about it.

“Trouble in paradise, Granger?” Fred raised an eyebrow and took another sip of his wine.

“Pretend I never said anything.” Hermione turned around to pour herself a glass of rosé but Fred was at her side in an instant. 

“Ah, but you did say something. Who’s all the same?” 

Hermione sighed, “Bloody Weasleys. Once you get something in your head about someone you just don’t let it go. I just- I know you’re having a shit day and I don’t mean to project this onto you- I-” Hermione looked at Fred’s face, he looked concerned. “It’s nothing, we’ve just been fighting more than usual and him going away this weekend is probably for the best.”

“Well it’s Ron, we all told you he was… I know what he can be like. What are you fighting about?” 

“Fred, we’re here to drown you sorrows, not mine.” Hermione took a large mouthful of wine.

“But that was before I knew you had sorrows to drown, wasn't it?” He managed a smirk, “I bet you haven’t talked to Harry and Ginny about it, worried it would make them feel like they're in the middle?” She nodded, rolling her eyes. “So tell me. I know what a little shit he can be, I’m not going to feel like I'm in the middle, I’m Team Granger all the way!” 

“He’s your brother.”

"And I’m your friend, so what?”

“It's too weird, Fred.” Hermione had finished her wine and set about pouring both of them another glass.

“I told you about Alicia.” Fred wheedled.

“This goes no further.” He nodded, “I work very closely with Neville at the ministry and Ron hates it. He’s constantly accusing me of cheating on him with Neville and-”

“But Neville is with Luna?” 

“That’s what _I_ said, but apparently that doesn't mean anything. You’d never think that they shared a room for six years. It’s like he’s forgotten who Neville is. We argue about the flat. He’s home all day most of the week and I’m still the one who has to cook and clean and then he just announces that he’s going away with with the team for the weekend and I’m at a point where I dread coming home from work because I’m sick of fighting with him. He was my best friend and we were supposed to be this incredible couple and now I don’t even…” She paused and bit her lip, fighting back tears. It was Fred’s turn to pull her into a hug. 

“Have you talked to anyone about it?” She shook her head, “I know he’s my brother, and I know he can be a prick, but this is more than that.”

“So I just break up with him, wait for Skeeter’s headline about the heartbreak of the wizarding world’s golden couple and then… then what?” Her voice was muffled against his chest, she pulled away slightly, “I’ve never said that out loud before.”

“It’s not like you have to make an immediate decision. But it’s out there now, it’s an option.”

“This is so silly, we’re supposed to be calling Alicia every name under the sun while we watch Titanic, not picking apart my relationship. Come on.” She led him through to the living room and they both made themselves comfortable on the sofa. “I never liked her, you’re better off without her.” Hermione smiled at Fred over her wine.

“Who needs her? We have Leonardo DaVinci and Kate Ringlet.”

“Oh, Fred.” Hermione spluttered into her glass as he grinned at her.

“We’ll get through this, Granger. I’ve got your back.”

“Thanks, Fred. Same, Alicia had better hope she never darkens the doorway of The Department of Education.” Fred laughed, taking them both by surprise. They soon got drawn into the film and forgot all about Ron and Alicia, Hermione unashamedly sobbing as the ship sank. Fred threw his arm around her shoulders, “I’m s-sorry, Fred. I’m not u-u-usually this…” She stifled another sob. 

“Not a problem, like you said, you’re allowed to cry, you know.” He gave her a squeeze, “There was definitely enough room on that bit of wood for Leo though.”

“I know! It's infuriating.” She sniffed. As the heart of the ocean was dropped over the side, Hermione felt her eyes closing.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _So let me thank you for your time,_  
>  And try not to waste anymore of mine  
> And get out of here fast 

When Hermione woke up, she was alone, but had a pillow under her head and a blanket over her. She smiled as she saw a note on the table.

_‘Didn’t want to wake you, thanks for being there for me tonight. Let’s do wine and sad films more often. Hope you get a chance to think about everything, you know where I am if you need me. See you soon - Your favourite twin x’_

She spent her Saturday cleaning the flat from top to bottom before collapsing on the sofa in her pyjamas with a glass of wine. She’d been thinking a lot about what she’d said to Fred, and decided to have a serious conversation with her boyfriend when he returned, the outcome of which would decide whether they had a future together. She’d never really considered leaving Ron before, but after getting her feelings out there, it felt more and more like the right thing to do. Since their sixth year, after he’d ended things so unceremoniously with Lavender, there was an element of expectation that they would end up together. She suspected that this expectation, rather than actual love, had kept them together this long. 

She curled her legs under her and opened her battered copy of Jane Eyre, a re-read was long overdue. She’d just gotten to the part where Jane meets Mr Rochester when there was a knock at the door. She crossed to the door, not bothering to look through the peephole. 

“Can I hide out here for a while?” Fred said urgently, as she opened the door.

“Yes, of course.” Hermione ushered him inside, “Why? What’s wrong?”

“Alicia has been outside my flat for over an hour, banging on the door and crying and I didn’t want to talk to her, I just didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t go to George’s because Angelina would be there, and much as I love her, the chances of it not getting back to Alicia eventually are very slim.” Fred’s face was flushed and he ran a hand through his hair. 

“Stay as long as you need.” Hermione laughed as he settled himself on the sofa. She sat down next to him, slipped her bookmark into her paperback and set it on the coffee table. “What did she say?”

“Something about making a mistake and Roger never meant anything to her and that she’d stay there all night if she had to. So naturally i set up a few anti-apparition wards so that no-one could apparate in or out, went out onto the balcony and apparated the hell out of there.” Fred smiled, “She just pushed me too far, y’know?”

Hermione nodded, she knew what it felt like to want to just up and leave. She’d realised over the course of the day that were she to break up with Ron, she couldn’t afford the rent of the flat by herself so she would need to be the one to move out. That scared her even more than Ron’s reaction. She’d become accustomed to their life together, and the flat, and didn’t know how completely uprooting her life would affect her mental health.

“How are you doing?” Fred asked, as she realised she’d zoned out for a moment.

“Honestly, I’m not sure.” She grimaced, “I still don’t know what to do, or what the right reasons are, if there are any.”

“You have to take Ron out of the picture and consider what’s best for you. In the nicest possible way, he doesn’t seem to think about what’s best for you, so you should.”

“I know you’re right, but there’s more to it than that. I’d need to find somewhere to live and-”

“You could move in with me.” Fred blurted out.

Hermione was taken aback, “What?”

“Well, I have a spare room, I only live a few minutes away from here.”

“Are you serious?” Hermione studied his face.

“I feel like now would be an inappropriate time to make a Sirius joke, yes?” She nodded, “Bugger. Yeah, you were there for me last night, so it’s the least I can do. Plus I’ve been ever so lonely since George moved out.” He winked at her.

“Fred, there’s a considerable difference between giving someone wine and letting them move in with you!”

“Not really.” He shrugged. “Well, the offer’s there.”

“That’s extremely kind of you, Fred. Thank you.” 

The following day was Teddy’s second birthday, and Andromeda brought him to The Burrow for the most extravagant party a two year old could ever hope to have. Hermione soon got irritated of having to field the many “Where’s Ron?!” conversations and started making up completely different stories.

“Granger, correct me if I’m wrong but I swear I just heard a friend of Andy’s say that Ron’s gone backpacking in Nepal.” Fred was leaning on the doorframe of the back door. Hermione, pouring herself some juice, laughed. 

“I hope _he_ gets as bored as answering questions regarding his whereabouts as I have.” She sipped her juice. “Besides, I probably won’t be there for the fallout.”

Fred mock-gasped loudly. “You’ve made a decision then?”

“Oh don’t be so melodramatic!” She looked to check that no-one was in earshot, then nodded. “I might need to take you up on your offer, if you meant it?”

“Of course I did! When are you thinking?” 

“I’m not sure whether or not to wait until he comes back or whether it will be easier to be gone by then.” She slumped in her chair. “It might need to be tonight.”

“Fred, Hermione, what are you doing in here? Teddy’s about to blow out his candles!” Mrs Weasley bustled into the kitchen and ushered them out into the garden. Teddy, being two years old hadn’t quite grasped the concept of blowing out candles, but as Harry held on to him, he tried valiantly until Harry gave him a helping hand. Everybody cheered loudly as Fred and Hermione’s eyes met over the table. She nodded at him.

“Fred, I’m surprised you didn’t bring Alicia today.” Mrs Weasley said as the few remaining sat around the kitchen table, drinking tea. “I haven’t seen her for a while.”

“We broke up earlier this week, mum.” Fred stared down at the table, “I didn’t want to steal Teddy’s thunder today.”

“Teddy’s _two_ , Fred.” Mrs Weasley scolded, “What on earth happened?”

“She met somebody else, so naturally…” Fred found himself being pulled into a hug by his mum, “Ow, mum, gerroff!” He squirmed away, “It’s fine. It wasn’t a high point in my week but I’m ok.”

His mum eyed him suspiciously. “Then Ron really has no excuse for not being here. Going away when he knew it was Teddy’s birthday!” She frowned.

“We’d better be going anyway, right, Granger?” Fred stood up slowly, “Today was great, Mum.”

“You’re both leaving?” Mrs Weasley arched an eyebrow.

“I asked Fred to help me with some work, it needs to be done by tomorrow, sorry!” Hermione stood up and grabbed her bag from the table. 

“Well I suppose we’ll see you soon.” Mrs Weasley sighed.

“Bye, Mum.” Fred bent and kissed her on the cheek. 

Fred and Hermione decided to floo to Hermione’s flat. She quickly gathered the essentials into her beaded bag as Fred hovered. When she’d finished she turned to him.  

“I’m doing the right thing, aren’t I?” She asked anxiously. Before Fred could answer, she heard the front door open and close. She looked at Fred, panicking. “Go back to yours, I’ll meet you there.”

She entered the living room as Fred apparated. Ron looked at her darkly as she walked towards him.

“Ron, we need to talk…”

“Who was in there with you? I heard them apparate. Don’t think about lying to me. Was it Neville?”

“No, it was not Neville. Neville has only ever been in this flat twice, when you have been here, and I’d be surprised if he ever came back because you made him feel so uncomfortable. I am absolutely sick of your attitude. If you don’t trust me, then we shouldn’t be together. Fred was here with me, he was helping me pack.”

“Pack? What for?” Ron sneered.

“I’m leaving. I don’t want to be with you anymore.” Hermione stood tall, shoulders back, preparing herself for the ensuing argument.

“Why was Fred helping you pack? Should I have been worried about him all along? Alicia will _love_ that!” He spat.

“Fred is my friend. If you were here this weekend, you’d know that Alicia broke up with him.” She adjusted the bag on her shoulder. “You missed Teddy’s birthday party.”

 “He’s two, I’m sure he _really_ missed me.”

“We can talk about this sensibly, or I can just go. It’s up to you.” She sighed.

“Go, then.” Ron shrugged. “You’ll be back though.”

“To collect the rest of my things, yes.” She nodded at him as she crossed to the door. “Goodbye, Ronald.”

He stormed across the room as she slammed the door, wrenching it open to follow her down the hallway, but she’d already disapparated.


	4. There's no-one here to save

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _I hate to break it to you babe, but I'm not drowning  
>  There's no one here to save_

Hermione woke up the next day completely bewildered. She didn’t recognise the room she was in and she instantly panicked. She reached for her wand, which was still kept under her pillow, and crept out of the bed. By the time that she was halfway across the room she remembered. She was in Fred’s flat above Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes. She sighed in relief before heading to the window. She opened it slowly, trying to be as quiet as possible. The sun was already up and birds were singing in nearby trees. 

She perched on the windowsill and stared at the street below, people were already starting their commute to work. She looked around the room to find a clock, but couldn’t see one. She knew there was one in the living room so she tiptoed out of her room and collided with Fred, who was strolling down the hallway in only a towel, which he almost dropped.

“Well, good morning!” He laughed as she covered her face with her hands, “Sleep well?”

“So well that I had no idea where I was when I woke up.” She smiled. “You?”

“Ah, never better.” He winked. “I roped Lee in to helping out at the shop today, so you have my undivided attention.”

“You didn’t need to do that, Fred.” She made intense eye contact with him, because otherwise she knew she'd be in danger of being caught staring at his mostly naked body. 

“I know, but what kind of friend would I be if I didn’t provide wine and films after a break up?” He put a hand on her shoulder, the other still holding up his towel. “It’s still early though, I have a horrible feeling that I’m now living with a morning person.” 

“But you get so much more done when you’re awake before noon,” Hermione teased. “If you need more sleep, I can entertain myself.”

“No, I’m ready to start the day. We both need this!” Fred ruffled her hair before carrying on down the hall, “See you in the kitchen in ten.”

Smiling, Hermione turned back to her room, closing the door behind her, she debated changing out of her pyjamas but decided she was too comfortable. She pulled her hair into a loose braid and tried to flatten it down where Fred had messed it up. She left her room to find Fred already in the kitchen with toast flying onto a plate and the kettle boiling.   “Wow, quite the domestic goddess, aren’t you?” Hermione smirked, leaning on the door frame. 

“As if you expected anything less.” He pirouetted rather gracelessly in the middle of the kitchen, “You forget who my mum is.”

“Have you ever seen your brother in the kitchen?” She asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Bill, yes, if he has to be, or if Fleur is feeling particularly patient. Charlie, yes, actually enjoys it, is a shockingly good baker. Percy, yes, obviously. George, well, he’d rather not but Angelina has him well trained… Oh, were you talking about Ron?” He smirked, “I think he might have boiled an egg once, a few years ago.”

“Well I certainly picked the wrong Weasley then.” She laughed, her cheeks flushing slightly as she realised how that sounded, “Not that I’m planning to work my way through the rest of you.”

“Fleur and Angelina would have something to say about that I’d imagine.” Fred poured the boiling water into two mugs, one emblazoned with the Gryffindor crest, and one that said ‘Kiss me, I’m a muggle’. “Percy’s always had a soft spot for you though.”

“Shut up.” She chuckled. “I’ve not even been single 12 hours and you’re trying to fix me up, and with _Percy_ of all people.”

“You could do a lot worse than Percy!”

“Ron, for example.” Fred snorted as he handed her the Gryffindor cup. “I should probably do the whole _‘me time’_ thing.”

“What?”

“It’s what all the muggle women’s magazines say about after you go through a break up you should go through a time where you just focus on yourself and don’t rush into another relationship, think about what you want from life. All that kind of new-age shit.” Hermione rolled her eyes, “You should try it. We should do it together.”

“The me time? Wouldn’t that be _us time_?” Fred looked puzzled.

“Not necessarily… I mean, not really, but we could support each other through the me time. With tea and toast and …did I see a pile of videos in your living room?” 

“George dropped them off before you woke up.” Fred smiled, “Him and Ang have loads more than me. I figured there’d be something there you can at least tolerate.”

“That’s really thoughtful. Thank you.” 

“It’s not just for you, it’s for me too. Don’t get all sappy on me now, Granger. Save it for when the film’s on.” He ushered her into the living room, tea in one hand and the plate of toast in the other. “You can pick the first film.”

Hermione looked through the videos, “Grease!” She yelped.

“The country?” Fred tilted his head to one side

“The film!” Hermione was already putting the tape in, as she reclaimed her seat on the sofa, Fred looked over at her. She crossed her legs and was holding her tea in both hands, staring eagerly at the TV that his dad had given him a few months earlier.

Fred realised fairly quickly that this was one of Angelina’s films, what George called ‘another bloody musical’. He found himself getting drawn into the film gradually and by the time that ‘You’re the one that I want’ was playing, he was practically on the edge of his seat. “That’s Sandy?!”

“Yeah, I’ve always found it problematic on the surface, because she changed so obviously for him, but when you think about it, he got the letterman jacket for her and he changed a lot when it came to his personality and how he acted around his friends.” She paused, “They were both willing to change for the other, though they probably didn’t need to, deep down.”

“I’m going to need to watch it again, soon.” Fred grinned, “Those songs… George hates musicals, but I tried to hate it and I just couldn’t.”

“Grease will do that.” She smiled back. “I think it’s your turn to pick, now.”

They watched ‘The Blues Brothers’ next, and both enjoyed it immensely. They decided to pick up the rest of her things from Ron’s and then pick up a takeaway for lunch on the way back. 

As Hermione opened the door to the flat she had shared with Ron, she held her breath, hoping desperately that he wasn’t there. Fred had threatened to cast multiple harmless but distracting jinxes on him, if need be. 

It seemed like Ron wasn’t home, so they set about packing Hermione’s books and clothes, quickly throwing them into her bag. She threw in a few videos that she thought Fred would enjoy, and ‘Titanic’. He got her favourite mug from the kitchen and the soft blanket that Crookshanks used to love. Just as they were ready to leave, the door was thrown open and a very out of breath Ron staggered in.

“I… told you… you’d… you’d be… be back.” He managed.

“You did, and here I am.” Hermione spat.

“Are… you staying?” Ron looked from her to Fred, to the empty bookshelves.

“What do you think, Ronald?” Hermione crossed her arms, “I just came to get the rest of my things.”

"Can we not talk about this?" Ron wheedled.

"I've got nothing to say that you haven't already heard hundreds of times."

"You seem to be taking all this in your stride. Had it planned a while then?" Ron said, accusingly.

"Would you rather I was falling apart?" Hermione shot Ron a mutinous look.

"At least I'd feel like I meant something to you, then." Ron shrugged.

"Well I hate to break it to you, but at this precise moment, you mean nothing. I'm not your damsel in distress, Ron, I'm Hermione _bloody_ Granger. Come on Fred, let's go." Hermione turned to leave.

“Where are you living?” Ron asked suspiciously.

“None of your business, is it, _Ronniekins_?” Fred interjected.

“I wasn’t asking you.” Ron’s eyes were dark.

“I’d rather you didn’t know for the moment, Ron.” Hermione’s tone had softened somewhat, in the hope of placating him.

“Please yourself. You’ll be back. Soon! You’ll see.” Ron walked past them, into the kitchen and Fred and Hermione took this as an opportunity to leave.

Safely back in Fred’s flat with fish and chips, they laughed at Ron’s obliviousness and Fred, assisted by Hermione after several mishaps, ("I _meant_ for the shelves to be diagonal, Granger. I thought it was very edgy and stylish! Who cares about practical?!"), transfigured some bookshelves in Hermione’s room for the small library that was currently held within the beaded bag. 

As they were watching ‘Mary Poppins’ that evening, Hermione felt herself falling asleep and before she knew it she was fast asleep with her head leaning on Fred’s arm. Fred looked down at his friend and carefully moved his arm so it was around her shoulders and her head was on his chest. As she wriggled closer to him in her sleep, he had a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach that he couldn’t put his finger on, similar to the one he'd had when she announced to Ron that she wasn't a damsel in distress. He pointedly decided to ignore it and focus on the film, where several animated penguins were tap-dancing.


	5. Done!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Who cares if you disagree?_  
>  You are not me  
> Who made you king of anything?  
> So you dare tell me who to be?  
> Who died and made you king of anything? 

Hermione awoke to Fred gently shaking her shoulder, “Granger. Granger!"

“‘m’wake.” She said hoarsely.

“You need to go to bed, we both have work in the morning.” Fred stroked Hermione’s hair gently. “You missed the end of Mary Poppins.”

“How long was I asleep?” 

“Almost an hour, I’d have woken you sooner but honestly, you’re like a human hot water bottle and I didn't want you to move." He smirked.

“Wow, thanks Fred.” She rolled her eyes. Before stretching, “Ow! I’m so achey.”

“Is it because you slept at a weird angle?" Fred asked, concerned.

"No, it kind of feels more like… shit, it feels like muggle flu.” Hermione sat up, groaning, Fred immediately missing the shared warmth.

He felt her forehead, “I think I've figured out why you’re like a human hot water bottle.”

“Please, tell me I don't have a fever. I booked today off as emergency holiday, I can't get sick straight after that. It’ll look so bad!”

“Well, I don't have a thermometer built into my hand, but you feel absolutely boiling.” Fred checked again. “I don’t think you’re up for work tomorrow.”

“But-”

“If you’re sick, you’re sick. Even if you feel like you _have_ to go to work for some bureaucratic reason, it's not fair to infect everyone else, right? The illustrious Department of Magical Education will manage for another couple of days without you.” Hermione slumped back against him and nodded. “So let’s get you into bed and I’ll floo Mum and see if she’s got anything to help.”

"Fred I can put myself to bed, I’m not a child.” 

"Things Hermione Jean Granger is not: an owl; check, a child; check, a damsel in distress; check.” Hermione swatted at him lazily and then groaned. “Go and put yourself to bed then. I'll be in soon with some water and whatever Mum recommends.”

Hermione stood up slowly, “If you insist, Fred. I’m sure I’ll be fine, though.”

“Go! And send an owl to your boss while you’re at it.” She grumbled but went to her room. Fred grabbed a handful of floo powder and threw it into the fire, “The Burrow.”

Fred emerged into the familiar living room, where a very pregnant Fleur, Bill and Mrs Weasley were sat. They all jumped at his sudden arrival.

“Merde! ’Onestly Fred, one of zeez days you weel be ze death of me.” Fleur announced. 

“Sorry Fleur.” He nodded at her, “Listen, I’m really sorry to burst in and interrupt, but Hermione’s got the flu, the muggle flu, not the..." He pointed to the fireplace behind him. “Have you got anything for it, mum?"

“If it’s for Hermione, why hasn’t Ron come to get it?” Bill asked, suspiciously.

Fred paused, “Well it's not really my business to tell you, but you’ll hear soon enough I suppose. Hermione broke up with Ron yesterday, and moved into my spare room.”

“‘Iz ‘spare room’. N’importe quoi…” Fleur mumbled. 

“Mum?” Fred hoped none of them notice the light blush under his freckles.

“Is Ron ok? Should I go and see him? Should I go and see her? Fred! You can't just announce something that huge and not-”

“Mum, I get it, but I just need something for the flu. She's burning up and she’s achey.” Fred maintained a neutral expression. “You can do whatever you want after that, but I promised her I’d be back soon.”

“Well, I probably I have something. Wait here.” Mrs Weasley bustled from the room, leaving Fred to the knowing eyes of Bill and his wife.

“So what happened between zem?” Fleur asked bluntly. “And remember, I am very,” She shot a glare at her husband, “very pregnant, so I shall know if you are lying.”

Fred didn't want to question that logic so he simply answered, “They just grew apart.”

“Non, zere has to be more to eet zan zat.” Fleur scoffed, “I zought she looked out of sorts at ze party.”

“The thing is, they... they’re very different now than the people they were at school, or even the people they were when they got together. There's no big revelation, they just weren’t good for one another anymore.” Fred shrugged.

“And why ‘as she moved een wiz you, of all the people?” Fleur narrowed her eyes.

“It’s a long story. I went to see Ron after Alicia broke up with me, Ron wasn’t there so Hermione and I watched a film, and talked about Alicia and I and her and Ron and it all spiralled from there. I said I had a spare room if she needed it and a day later she took me up on it, and thats all there is to it.”

“And zat’s all zere eez to eet?” Fleur asked incredulously, “This eez not ze same girl you disappeared wiz at our wedding?”

“That was… different.” Fred could feel himself growing redder and redder, he knew that telling George was a mistake, “That was a war time ‘we might be dead tomorrow’ snog. Now she’s _just_ my friend who needed somewhere to stay.”

“And you haven’t talked about the snog, presumably?” Bill spoke up, finally.

“When the war was over, she and Ron got together, it’s not like either of us were harbouring any feelings other than severe intoxication. I saw very little point in bringing it up.” Fred’s brow was furrowed, “I don’t see why-”

“‘E ‘as even started to sound like ‘er.” Fleur laughed. “‘Severe intoxication’. We all keess people when we are drunk, Fred. Usually eet ees someone we want to keess sober.” Her and Bill shared a smirk before Mrs Weasley hurried back in.

“Fred, this potion should get rid of all the symptoms within 48 hours. Two teaspoons, four times a day. She’ll continue getting worse until then, so I suggest you take some too, as she’s probably given it to you, seeing as you apparently live together now.” Mrs Weasley said pointedly. “Plenty of fluids, try and eat, though you won’t feel much like it. I’ll pay Ron a visit tomorrow. Send her my love, won’t you dear.”

“Of course, mum. Also, she doesn’t want Ron to know where she’s staying for the time being.” Fred scowled at his brother and Fleur before stepping back into the fire.

He knocked on Hermione’s door before entering. She was almost completely hidden by the duvet, but she started to sit up as he came in. He perched on the edge of her bed, “Mum said this will help, two teaspoons, four times a day, but you’ll feel worse before you feel better.”

“Did she ask any awkward questions?” Hermione took the bottle and the spoon and took the dose, screwing up her face at the taste.

“They asked why I was there instead of Ron, so I told them. Fleur was more pushy but y’know, _hormones_?” Fred shrugged. “Mum was concerned and sends her love. She’ll probably want to come and interrogate you soon, just a heads up.”

Hermione rolled her eyes, “Thanks, Fred. That doesn’t make me nervous at all.”

“Have you told _your_ mum?” Fred asked her. Hermione paused before shaking her head. 

“I still feel like they hate me for sending them away. They can say they don’t until they’re blue in the face, but…” She trailed off, shrugging. “It’s still weird.”

“Well at least you’ll only have to field questions from my mum, then.” Fred took the bottle and looking distrustingly at it, poured himself two spoons and swallowed them.

“You’re sick too?” Hermione looked concerned.

“Mum said I should take it as a precaution.” Fred rolled his eyes slowly.

“I’m sorry if you do get sick, Fred.” Hermione patted his arm softly, “I’m a terrible houseguest.”

“Flatmate.” Fred corrected her. “You live here.”

“Oh, yes, I suppose I do.” She laughed. “Fred, I can’t thank you enough. Merlin knows what I’d have done without you!”

“I’m only doing what any friend would do.” Fred smiled as he felt himself blush slightly. “You don’t need to thank me.” They smiled at one another for a moment or two, Hermione cocking her head to one side. “Did you owl your boss?”

“Yes, mum!” She laughed as he pretended to get offended. “I wish this potion worked straight away.” She groaned as her chest hurt from laughing. 

“You should try and sleep, Granger. You want a sleeping draught?” She shook her head slowly, “I’ll see you tomorrow, I’ll be working downstairs if you need anything. I hope you sleep well.” He pulled her into an awkward hug before standing and leaving her room, desperately trying to convince himself that he didn’t just smell her hair.

When Hermione awoke twelve hours later, it was to an angry Ron bursting into her room. She sat up, pulling the duvet around her and grabbing her wand. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same question,” Ron snarled. 

“I live here, my question still stands though.” Hermione frowned.

“You _live_ here? Don’t make me laugh ‘Mione. Why the hell would Fred let you live here?” 

“Because Fred is my friend.” Hermione stated plainly.

“So that’s it?” Ron asked.

“What’s what?” Hermione said facetiously. 

“You’re not coming back?” 

“You know that I’m not. How many times do I need to tell you?” Hermione was too achey and sore to have this conversation again.

“I just don’t believe you. You have bloody panic attacks leaving the flat, how can you just move out and…” Hermione pointed her wand at him, “Unless you faked it.”

“Yes Ron, I faked multiple panic attacks that put me in St Mungos.” Hermione spat sarcastically. “Piss off.”

“Not until you tell me why.”

“Why, what?” Hermione’s head was pounding.

“Why you left? Why you’re here of all places?” Ron eyed the room.

“I left because I was… I _am_ sick of your attitude, I’m sick of you not trusting me and I’m sick of the jealousy. I’m sick to death of you treating me like an object and not a person, and how dare you bring my mental health into this. Who died and made _you_ king of anything Ron? Your opinion doesn’t matter to me anymore. What you think is not important to me. I’m done with your misogynistic, gaslighting, inferiority complex bullshit. I’m just done. _Done!_ Now would you kindly piss off!” 

Ron stood open mouthed before turning on the spot and disapparating. Hermione found that she was out of breath. She raised a hand to her forehead and found it clammy and boiling. She poured herself another dose of the medicine and took it. It didn’t taste any better than it had done the night before. She dragged herself out of bed and decided she needed to shower.


	6. Delusional Sunset

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _You sound so innocent, all full of good intent_  
>  Swear you know best  
> But you expect me to jump up on board with you  
> And ride off into your delusional sunset  
> I'm not the one who's lost with no direction  
> But you'll never see  
> You're so busy making maps with my name on them in all caps  
> You got the talking down, just not the listening  
> 

Hermione decided to camp out on the sofa for the rest of the day, dozing in and out with horrific daytime television in the background. She hated feeling useless and got more and more frustrated as the day went on. Her sinuses were blocked up and she wheezed everytime she took a breath, her headache was only matched by her sore throat and the ache in her shoulders and hips. She decided to wear a t-shirt and pyjama shorts because she was switching between hot and cold so rapidly, then bundled herself up in a cosy red blanket and tried to pay attention to Countdown.

When Fred finally climbed the stairs shortly after five, he wasn’t alone. “Granger” He called as he opened the door to the flat. “You have visitors. They insisted on seeing you, I told them you were sick but…” He was followed by Harry, Ginny, Neville and Luna. “They wanted to see you.”

Hermione muted the television and smiled meekly at her friends, knowing that she should have contacted them to let them know her change in circumstances, but she just wasn’t sure how to break it to Harry and Ginny. 

“If it’s any consolation, Hermione, after we left Hogwarts, he became a complete arse, so I really don’t blame you.” Neville spoke up, breaking the silence. Hermione stood up, wrapped her blanket around her and crossed the room to her friends. She pulled Neville into a hug before following suit with the others.

“You really thought that we’d take sides? And if we did, that we’d take his?!” Ginny asked incredulously, with a twinkle in her eye. 

“He’s your brother, I- I didn’t know what to think Gin, it was very sudden.” Hermione laughed, as they all sat down in the living room, Fred perched on the arm of her armchair. “He came over earlier and-”

“Wait, he came _here_? When?” Fred looked down at her, concerned, “Why didn’t you come and tell me?”

“Because I handled it. He was here a little after one, I think.”

“What did he say?” Fred pressed, putting his hand on her shoulder gently.

Hermione looked at him awkwardly, before deciding that it was best that her friends heard this from her, “He asked if I was coming back, to which I obviously answered no. Then asked why I was staying here. Then he basically accused me of faking the … anxiety stuff, because I was able to leave him.” Her friends’ faces were all masks of horror and fury, and Fred’s grip on her shoulder had tightened. “So, I told him that I was sick of his attitude and to piss off.”

Luna was the first to speak, “I was never really a fan of Ron. His aura was always black, and I always felt like he was trying to belittle me. Even after we were friends. I think you’re much better off without him, Hermione.” Neville took his girlfriend’s hand and she smiled at him.

“Thank you, Luna.” Hermione was touched at her friend’s sentiment. “It’s been the six of us for so long, and I just didn’t know what would-”

“He’s been acting like a tosser for a while ‘Mione. While I’m obviously sad that you’re both going through this, I feel like you’ve made the right decision, and I hope that Ron has a moment of realisation and sorts himself out.” Harry smiled at her, “You’ll be fine. I know you’ll be overthinking everything, because that’s who you are. But it _will_ be fine.”

Hermione smiled at her friends, bashfully. She felt incredibly stupid for thinking that they’d ever be anything but supportive, though she had once thought that true of Ron too. “It means so much that you’re all here.” She said eventually. Ginny wiped a mock tear, and Harry clutched at his heart dramatically. “Oh grow up!” She laughed.

“How are you feeling?” Fred asked quietly, as the other four began talking emphatically about the Holyhead Harpies’ chance of winning the league. 

“Ugh,” Hermione mumbled, “Worse than yesterday. You?”

“Achey.” Fred smiled, “But it’s only for another day, right?”

“Right. I already owled Hector. You should probably not work tomorrow either, though, if it’s going to be the worst day.” Hermione told him.

“But-”

“No buts, Weasley.” She grinned up at him before shivering, “I’m so cold!”

“I’m absolutely boiling.” He rolled his eyes before standing up and settling himself behind her in the chair, resting his chin on her shoulder, rubbing her arms to try and warm her up. “She’s too cold and I’m hot.” He shot at Ginny’s raised eyebrow.

“Who told you that, Romilda Vane?” Harry jumped in before Ginny could reply. She high-fived him before turning back to them. 

“Not that it’s not been lovely seeing you ‘Mione. But I really don’t fancy catching muggle flu, if this is a side effect.” Ginny laughed as Hermione rolled her eyes, “Let’s go for a drink, Friday night. Girls only.” Luna nodded thoughtfully, as Harry and Neville exchanged mock incredulous looks.

“That sounds perfect.” Hermione beamed, “And thank you for coming.”

The four of them left, insisting that they could show themselves out, leaving Fred and Hermione in the armchair.

“Are you still warm?” Hermione asked, noticing that Fred was shivering. He shook his head violently then let out a whine as Hermione stood up. She quirked an eyebrow before unwrapping herself from the blanket, pulling out her wand and making the blanket several times bigger. She draped it around Fred’s shoulders before sitting back down and wrapping it around them both, deciding that in the name of the flu, it would be ok to lean back against his chest.

Before long, Hermione felt herself drifting off, twisting herself slightly so that her head was on Fred’s chest.

“Are you quite comfortable?” Fred joked. She nodded sleepily as he slowly moved his arms around her, “This ok?” She nodded again. He rested his head back against the chair and rested his eyes, telling himself he would only be dozing for a few minutes.

“Well I suppose this answers the question of why Hermione moved in _here_.” An angry voice from the fireplace spat. Fred opened his eyes slowly, wincing at the bright light. He felt Hermione rousing too and held on to her. He looked to the fire and saw his youngest brother stepping out, looking furious. Groaning, Fred shut his eyes again.

“I’m imagining you. You’re not real. This is just an awful dream.” Ron scoffed.

Hermione was fully awake now and Fred felt her head jerk towards the fireplace. “What are you doing here? I told you earlier to leave me alone.”

“So you can shag my brother? Yeah, ok.” Ron shook his head in disbelief. “So all along, it wasn’t Neville, it was you. Fred, I knew you had a thing for-”

“What part of me telling you to piss off didn’t you understand? For the record, I’m not shagging Fred, but if I were, it would be none of your bloody business.” Ron started to say something but Hermione carried on over him. “I’m not shagging Fred or Neville or anyone, you delusional arsehole.” She paused, “I don’t know why I keep justifying myself to you…” She felt Fred squeeze her arm gently, under the blanket.

“If you aren’t shagging then why are you half naked, between his legs, wrapped in a blanket?” Ron asked as if this was the damning evidence he needed to crack this mystery.

“Because we both have the flu, you prick!” Fred finally spoke up. “Would you like to take our temperature? We can sneeze on you if you like.”

“The flu?” Ron asked, incredulously.

“Yes, I went to mum’s last night for a potion for it. You can go and ask her. To be honest I don’t care where you go, but I’d like it if you got the hell out of our flat.”

The word ‘our’ seemed to cause Ron physical pain, yet he managed to sneer, “ _Our_ flat? She’s been here two days.”

“Yeah.” Hermione met his eyes, defiantly.

“Fred, can I talk to Hermione in private?” Ron glared at him.

“Anything you want to say to me, you can say in front of Fred.” Hermione turned to completely face Ron and Fred wrapped his arms around her waist.

Ron pulled out a small box, “I bought this weeks ago. I was planning to propose on the anniversary of the battle, when we go up for the ceremony.”

“Ron…” Hermione started. 

“I know that I’ve been a twat, but I love you, and I don’t want to lose you.” Ron’s face creased. “I thought maybe if I made a grand gesture that we could maybe work through this.”

“So you think that after everything you’ve said and done that a ring will fix it? You’re the one who needs his head looking at, not me. Ron, I don't even want to be your friend right now, I don't want to see you, I don't want to hear from you. At some point I might be ready to be your friend again, but I’ll let you know when that is. As for now, we would like you to leave please.” Hermione set her jaw.

“‘Mione…”

“I said get out.” She snapped, standing up and grabbing her wand from the table. “Now.” She narrowed her eyes at her ex-boyfriend. 

“Fine! Crazy bitch.” Ron muttered, and then Fred was on his feet and to Hermione it was a blur but then Ron yelped and Fred was clutching his fist. Ron threw himself back into the fire before Fred could throw another punch.

“Fred!” Hermione chastised. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to hit him I just… shit.” Fred poked at his hand tentatively and winced. 

“Oh for Merlin's- come here” She took his hand in his and tapped it with her wand, “Episkey.” Fred bit his lip as the bones in his hand clicked back together. “Better?” He wiggled his fingers slowly and nodded. “You didn’t need to do that, you know? I’m not a damsel in distress, remember.”

“I know you’re not a damsel in bloody distress, but he deserved that. Don’t look at me like that, you think I don’t know about you punching Malfoy?” She smiled and shook her head. “You’re _not_ crazy, and you’re not a bitch. I just…”

“I know. Thank you.” He pushed a stray curl back off her face and pulled her into a hug. He pressed his cheek against the top of her hair, “Yeah playing the crazy card is low…”

“I know you don’t _need_ saving but…”

“Fred, it’s ok. Thank you. I would have hexed him anyway, but he has no idea how to fix a black eye, so he’ll have to suffer it or go to your mum, which he obviously won’t do because she’ll ask him every question under the sun.” She pulled away from the hug. “I think I’m going to call it a night.”

“Ok, sleep well.” Fred smiled after her. He realised that he had something akin to butterflies in his stomach and his smile faltered as she left the room. He shook his head, refusing to accept that he had any feelings for his friend, and brother’s ex girlfriend, and flatmate, because that would be ridiculous.


	7. Wicked

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _And who cares if you disagree?  
>  _You are not me  
>  _Who made you king of anything?  
>  _So you dare tell me who to be?  
>  _Who died and made you king of anything?_____

Fred paced up and down slowly in front of the fire trying to rationalise what he was feeling, groaning at the strain on his already aching muscles. He knew it wasn’t good, and there was no way that it could end well. He knew that he needed to suppress this, at least for the time being. He convinced himself that regardless of whether he ended up having feelings for Hermione or not, he would have punched Ron. He knew how much Hermione had struggled over the last two years, and to get so far, only to have the person she trusted the most berate her for being mentally ill was unthinkable.

The fireplace glowed green and Fred froze. Would Ron really be stupid enough to come back? He was surprised when his dad stepped out of the flames. 

“Alright, Dad?” 

Arthur Weasley sank into the armchair wearily and looked up at his son, “You punched Ron?”

“Yeah, I did.” Fred held his dad’s gaze.

“Your mother’s going spare. Fancy telling me why?” Mr Weasley looked very tired.

“It was kind of an automatic reaction, I didn’t realise I’d done it until I’d _done_ it.” Fred sighed, “He just showed up here and called Hermione a _crazy bitch_ , and I know it seems like I just flew off the handle, but he’s been telling her that she faked all the panic attacks and all that stuff and I just…”

“Ron said that?” Arthur Weasley leant forward in the chair, his fists clenched. “He actually said that to her?”

“Yes, dad.” Fred looked down at the floor. 

“You know he’s at home right now, spewing some nonsense about you keeping her here under false pretences. Molly will probably re-break his nose once she hears what he’s been saying.” 

“I broke his nose? I thought I just gave him a black eye. Wicked!” Fred flashed his Dad a grin, which moments later was returned. “I have a feeling that him putting her down isn’t a new thing, I don’t think she’s been happy in a while. I went over to their flat on Friday night to see if Ron wanted to drink himself under the table, because Alicia told me about her and Roger and I just… I showed up there and she’d obviously planned to have a relaxing evening to herself and she just made me a part of it. We talked about Alicia and then she said something about Ron in passing and I _knew_. So I pushed her to see what the issue was and amongst other things, he kept accusing her of cheating on him with Neville.”

“But Neville is with Luna.” Mr Weasley looked perplexed.

“I know that, you know that, Ron knows that. Apparently that’s not enough. He was deliberately cutting her off from her friends. Last weekend he just announced that he was going away with the team for the weekend, and I know that doesn’t seem like a big deal, but…”

“Her anxiety.”

“Exactly, Hermione has that calendar so she knows exactly what the plan is, so she can prepare herself mentally. Dropping that on her was a real dick move.”

“She’s lucky that she has a flatmate who understands her so well.”

“I haven’t told her about that yet, though. Not that I think she’d judge me in any way, but I’m in a fairly good place mentally now and I don’t want to make what she’s still going through, about me.”

“Hermione Granger is the smartest, kindest, most wonderful witch that I know… that I’m not related to.” Mr Weasley added hastily, “It would most likely help her to know that you understand. What you’ve done for her in getting her away from Ron, is admirable. I know it can’t have been easy, but I’m so proud of you.” 

Fred felt tears welling up in his eyes, he’d worried so much about what his family would think, whether they’d take Ron’s side. Ron was very good at manipulating people. “I think I overreacted maybe, maybe I shouldn’t have punched him. It just brought it all back though. The things he said after the war, what he told other people. The thought of Hermione feeling as hopeless as I felt then… I just lost it.”

“I knew that as soon as he told me you’d punched him. If he had simply refused to leave for Hermione’s sake, you would have hexed him. I knew it had to be something bad for you to think with your fist and not your wand.” Arthur stood up, “Are _you_ ok? You look tired.”

“You sound like Mum,” Fred grinned, “Aside from having muggle flu, and punching my little brother, I’m ok.”

“You should get some rest. Give Granger my love, won’t you?” Fred nodded as his Dad stepped back into the green flames. 

Fred retired to his room, but just couldn’t fall asleep. Eventually he sat up and looked at the clock, it was 3am. He headed out to the kitchen where he made himself a cup of tea, Hermione had left a book on the side called ‘Pride and Prejudice’, which he picked up and started reading as he sipped his tea. He hadn’t expected to become so enthralled, but the next time he looked up, a very peaky looking Hermione stood in the doorway with a quizzical look on her face.

“I didn’t lose your place, or anything. I hope you don’t mind, it was just supposed to be something to do while the kettle boiled and I got sucked in a bit…”

Hermione smiled at him, “You’re enjoying it?”

“I know, it surprised me too.” 

“There’s a TV series they made of it, we should watch it sometime. It has Colin Firth in, he’s the quintessential Darcy. There’s a scene where he comes out of a lake and his shirt is all wet and it’s just…” Hermione sighed, and if her cheeks weren’t already flushed from her fever, she knew they’d be scarlet anyway.

“Why are you awake?” Fred flicked the kettle back on.

“I woke up an hour ago and couldn’t go back to sleep. I think it’s because I can’t lie down and breathe at the same time.” She laughed, “Why are _you_ awake?”

“Honestly, I just couldn’t sleep.”

“It’s the adrenaline that comes from punching someone.” She raised an eyebrow.

“I know I overreacted, and I probably shouldn’t have done it, but he doesn’t get to say stuff like that to you anymore. He should never have said things like that anyway, but for him to come here and… I just lost it. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologise.” She shook her head, before crossing the room to him. “Oh wow, you look awful, have you taken your temperature?”

“What’s the point? It’ll all be over by tonight.” Hermione pressed her hand to his forehead. 

“Go and get your duvet.”

“What?” Fred asked.

“Your duvet, and as many pillows as you can carry.” Hermione turned on her heel and walked back to her room. To Fred’s surprise she emerged moments later, swamped in her duvet, with three pillows in her hands. “Come on!”

Fred followed suit and found her on the sofa, which had been transfigured to resemble a large bed with a sofa back at the head, the duvet mostly covering her. He plonked himself down beside her and pulled his duvet up to his chin. “What are we doing?”

“I can’t sleep lying down, you can’t sleep at all. So the sofa is now a bed. We can watch a film, or read, or whatever.”

Fred took a deep breath, “Just after the battle, I didn’t leave this flat for a while. Not to go to buy milk, not to St Mungos for appointments. I didn’t even go to work. George ran everything single handed, with some help from Ron, which you would know about, obviously. The thought of leaving the flat made my chest hurt so much that once Angelina called an emergency healer because she actually thought I was dying. I told George to tell everyone that I was just busy, but Mum and Dad guessed. They helped me through it. There are still days where I get that weird homesick feeling the second I step out of the flat, where I just want to pull the duvet over my head and never leave my bed.” Fred sighed, “One day I felt brave enough to try and go down to the shop and as I get to the bottom of the stairs I hear Ron ranting to George about how I’m putting it all on to get out of doing any work and how I’m lazy and it was a shame the wall didn't crush me completely for all the help I was being.”

“He said that?” Hermione looked aghast. “He actually said that?!”

“George was shaking, I could hear it in his voice. He told Ron that he needn’t come to the shop again. The only reason he didn’t tell Mum is because he thought she’d drag me into it and he didn’t want me to know.” Fred shook his head, “So what I’m trying to say is, I get it. I get the anxiety thing, I get the Ron thing. I just get it.” 

“It would appear so. I’m sorry that he was such an arse to you. At the end of the day I could cut all ties with him if need be. But for your own brother to…” She shook her head, “At first I thought it was to do with the war, the horcrux hunt, the battle… We’d always bickered, never quite seen eye to eye, but I thought I should give it a go, because of the battle, and the war, and everything we’d been through, together. I thought maybe he had some… Muggle doctors would call it Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, and I thought he’d get better.”

“A lot of messed up things have happened to my family, my uncles were killed, Ginny was possessed by Voldemort, Percy was an arsehole for ages. Most of his life actually.” Hermione smacked his arm softly, “But what he’s done is worse than all of that. I honestly don’t know how mum is going to take it. Dad came over just after you went to bed.”

“I thought I heard the floo, but thought I’d keep my distance in case it was Ron and you decided to murder one another.”

“I told him what he said and what he’s been doing, in basic terms. I hope you don’t mind.” She shook her head.

“I just feel so stupid for believing that he would change.”

“We don’t have to talk about him.” Fred took one of her shaking hands in his, “We can talk about anything.”

“I know, it’s just that I’ve never had someone to talk to about it before. Not that I want to talk to you about Ron for the rest of your life, obviously.” She smiled at him, “Let’s talk about something else for now, though.”

“So this Darcy bloke? I’m supposed to like him eventually, right?” Fred grinned as Hermione’s eyes lit up.


End file.
